Black Holes
Black holes are a problem
I don’t know what to do about.
We can’t fold them up, or shut them down,
or turn them inside out.
We can’t cause them to remove themselves,
or smash them into mush,
we can’t bomb them, or recycle them,
or scare them with a rush.
They’re not amenable to reason,
they can’t be chemically dissolved,
the problem’s not physical,
nor by theologians resolved.
Black holes hurtle everywhere
sucking light with fiendish glee.
Whole galaxies they gobble up
and on one of them are we.